


Drug Wars

by littlejeanniebean



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama & Romance, F/M, Gen, Modern Era, Murder Mystery, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:15:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24167203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlejeanniebean/pseuds/littlejeanniebean
Summary: In 1970s Brooklyn, Leia Organa is kidnapped by the feared hitman for the Russian mafia known only as "Vader." P.I. Ben Kenobi is on the case when he is hired by Luke, whose aunt and uncle were killed by one of the Russians' sons. Han has an Aston Martin and a German Shepherd he named "Chewie" because of an unfortunate loafer incident - oh, and he's a smuggler for the mafia.
Relationships: Leia Organa/Han Solo
Comments: 27
Kudos: 30





	1. Taken

It was 8:30 PM when Leia bade her parents goodnight on a Tuesday evening. She wrote on the white board on the outside of her door, "Do not disturb!! Leia is asleep and has a test tomorrow!!"

The seventeen-year-old did her dark brown hair up in space buns and tucked a white high-neck blouse into her bell bottoms. 

Then she turned out her lights and crept down the fire escape outside her window, relishing the freedom that came with a night out in New York. She had, in fact, studied for her test the next day, of course. She was no heathen.

Leia walked to an abandoned parking lot under a rather unfortunately dilapidated bridge. Several young adults were gathered. The boys had the cars. The girls had the beers. She scanned the crowd until her big brown eyes landed on her friends. There was tall, blonde and scrawny Simone and dark-skinned, curly-haired, short and plump Reneé with her trademarked azure blue eyeshadow. 

Reneé whistled her over.

"Oh, good, you made it! I was getting worried!" Simone put a cold one into her hands.

"You're just in time," Reneé told her in a more controlled manner, nodding to the driver of a sleek Aston Martin being dared to do donuts by a rich kid with bulging blue eyes.

"Isn't that the guy who dropped out two years ago?" Leia asked.

"Oh, yeah, I heard he's into some shady business now," said Reneé.

Then the driver shrugged off his black jean jacket, took the money being waved in his face and got into the car.

"Oh, dear, he's going to do it!" Simone turned around quickly, "I can't watch!"

Leia could and when the roguishly handsome driver caught her eye from the driver's seat, he winked.

Reneé let out a low, teasing whistle while her friend rolled her eyes and said, with a challenging eyebrow-raise at the man, "He won't be so cocky when he dents his ride."

Almost like he could hear her, he revved his engine. Tires squealed. Smoke and dust billowed up and he drifted in neat, controlled figure eights.

"Whoo!" he pumped his fist out the window as he skidded to a smooth stop right in front of them, "Hey."

"Hey, yourself," Leia smirked.

He got out of the car and ambled over, tan, calloused hands shoved into the pockets of his black jeans. "Don't think I've seen you here before. I'm -"

Then a large blond boy stormed up, "You got some nerve showin' your face 'round here, Solo."

"Whoa, whoa, wait a sec, who are you?"

Instead of responding, the boy pulled a particularly ornate knife.

Recognition dawned on Solo's face, but then Simone said, "Oh, dear!" and for once, Reneé agreed. They didn't want to stick around for that kind of trouble.

The girls discarded their beer bottles at the first public bin and trotted back to their neighborhood, arm in arm.

Leia sighed happily, throwing her head back to look at the orange sky, "Don't you wish you could see the stars from the city?"

"They're just gas," shrugged Reneé practically.

Simone sighed drunkenly, having always been a lightweight, "Well, I suppose it would be romantic. To kiss a boy under the -"

The girls stopped short two blocks away from where their apartments. A tall man in a black mask was leaning against a busted streetlight. He was quickly flanked by two others in the kind of skull masks you could get at the Halloween store.

"Oh, dear, oh!" Simone trembled and clutched Leia's left arm.

Reneé only permitted herself a small whimper before instinctively backing into the shadow of her taller friends and gripping the back of Leia's blouse so hard her knuckles popped.

Leia's eyes darted around the darkened, empty street. They could call for help, but if the men were carrying guns, they could wind up dead anyway. New York was full of crazies.

"We're going to run around the block," she whispered, taking one step back for every one the men took forward, "Mrs. Adler always forgets to lock her back door. On my mark."

The men quickened their pace.

"Now!"

The girls took off in a sprint. Simone had long, spindly legs, but she'd always been terribly uncoordinated and her tipsy state slowed her down severely. Reneé was soon panting hard and because of her height, Leia had to provide a foothold in scaling Mrs. Adler's fence.

A pair of hands grabbed her shoulders roughly, but before she could scream, a thickly gloved hand covered her mouth. Biting down did nothing. Struggling only caused her space buns to fall out. 

" _ Leia _ !" she could hear her friends calling frantically.

The man in the black mask pointed a silenced gun at the flimsy wooden fence and whispered, "Tell them to shut up or I'll shoot. Scream and I'll shoot."

The one holding her loosened his grip and uncovered her mouth.

Leia jutted out her chin, put on her bravest face and said without a trace of a quiver in her voice, "It's alright, girls. I think we lost them. I'll take the alley back to my place."

She breathed a sigh of relief as she heard them puttering away on the grass of old Mrs. Adler's backyard. But at the same time, a weight of dread descended upon her. 

A chloroform gag was put in her mouth and a cloth over her eyes. She tried to hold her breath at first and by counting turns and toll booths determined they were headed in the general direction of Brooklyn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As we in the entertainment business like to say, "dun dun DUN..."


	2. I Know

Luke had left the reserve when he was sixteen. He got a job in the city as a beekeeper and then he found out he didn't much care for bees, so he tried working at the grocers, but customer service wasn't up his alley either. The boy was back, alright, with his tail between his legs after a year in limbo. 

His aunt and uncle scolded him for his vague and lofty ambitions of "finding his place in the universe" - a curse of being an orphan, his aunt lamented. 

They weren't really related. They were his adoptive parents and had a funny way of showing they cared, but Luke knew he could come home to them. In just two short weeks, it was like he never left. 

He got a job with a logging company just outside the reserve. He would drive out early in the morning and come back late at night. One afternoon, however, an errand boy came cycling to the logging yard.

"Skywalker!" they called him by his native name, his fellow crewmen. It was meant to make him feel different and odd. He didn't like it one bit.

"Your house! Burnt down!" the errand boy gasped for breath. 

"Aw, _shit_ , what happened?" he was under the impression his aunt had left the stove on again or his uncle’s latest patch-job on the old furnace failed. But with the words that followed, his mouth went dry and slack and as for the rest of his body, it no longer felt like his own.

"Some white kids high as fuck! Molotov cocktail-ed the shit outta the place, man! The chief got his people to chase those motherfuckers off, but…"

"But _what_?" Luke vaguely heard a voice in his head telling him not to strangle the messenger, but he ignored it in anger.

"Y-your aunt a-and uncle… th-they… I'm sorry, man…"

Luke sat down - fell down is more like it - and wept and screamed. He might've kicked something. It was all a blur.

On autopilot, he went to the house. The chief's people had caught all but one of the "kids" who torched the place. Really, they were adults. The colloquial term was "hillbillies." 

"Even white men's society won't miss them," said the chief, casting a furtive glance at Luke, "Will you stay, young Skywalker?"

"There's nothing here for me now," the boy mourned, then his eyes snapped to alertness, "I want to find the bastard who got away."

The chief nodded, "I was going to call an old friend myself, but perhaps you should pay him a visit yourself."

Luke received a plain card that read, _Ben Kenobi, Private Investigator. Queens, NYC_. and a sketch of the missing man.

He set out immediately, driving through the night and camping out on the waiting bench outside the P.I.'s office.

"Hello? Good morning?" a Japanese man in a three-piece suit with a white beard and a balding head bent over him.

"Oh, hi, Ben?" Luke jumped up, suddenly aware that he hadn't showered in twenty-four hours and was still wearing his threading plaid work shirt.

"That is my name," he smiled, unlocking the door to his office and showing the wearied traveller in.

"I'm Luke. Skinner. Luke Skinner."

"Hello, Luke Skinner, have a seat," Ben made coffee from actual beans at a little station in the far corner of the neat little room, "What can I do for you?"

The boy told him what had happened and gave him the names of the culprits who had been caught. "The chief gave me this," he handed over a folded paper, "An artist in our - the tribe put it together from what the chief's enforcers saw…"

Kenobi's eyes widened, "What did you say the names of the others were?"

"Kolechev and Marehoff…"

Kenobi's nimble fingers navigated his filing system. He selected a folder, flipped it open and tutted heavily. "Those weren't hillbillies, Luke. They were college students on a joyride upstate for spring break. The one you're looking for, Tarkin - he just got back to his father's house in Brooklyn last night."

"Great, let's go pick him up."

"Easier said than done. Considering that his father is the right hand to the leader of the Russian mob faction, Zvezda."

"What the fuck?"

"Who've just kidnapped the daughter of another dear friend of mine."

"What the _fuck_?"

"I _could_ make a move on your case, but it may well result in her death," Ben presented his newest client with a picture of a pretty dark-haired girl with big brown eyes.

"She's beautiful," his tone softened.

"I'm meeting with my C.I. who promised me information on where they're holding her. Once she's secured, I'll move on Tarkin for you."

"Thank you."

Ben nodded, checked his watch and sighed, "My own 'enforcer' is late again."

"I'm fast and I can throw a solid right hook," Luke didn't want to wait any longer than he had to.

The P.I. appraised his slight, but sturdy frame before taking his fedora off the hat stand and opening the door, "You coming?"

The boy bolted out after him.

They made their way to a different part of Queens and approached a shiny Aston Martin idling in front of a sign that clearly prohibited it.

"Han!" Ben called out to the driver who was smoking a fat cigar.

Han cast the old man a derisive look, "What's with the fedora?"

"It's a fashion statement," Ben deadpanned and showed him the kidnapped girl's picture, "You had information on a hostage, is this the person?" 

"Whoa, wait, _that's_ who they've got?" the C.I. ran an agitated hand through his tousled hair.

"I thought _you_ knew who they got?" Luke leaned on the car.

"Hey, off, buddy," Han jabbed his thumb away from the body of his ride, "I _heard_ they had _someone_ whom they were holding for ransom, like you say, at the warehouse on the water I told you about for the Yuglavik case."

"Now, this is not what I pay you for," Ben shook his head disappointedly, "I pay you to know your shit."

"Look, I'm in smuggling. I move product, not people."

"Well, you're gonna have to find a way to give us something better, _buddy_ ," Luke jumped back in, "How do you know the girl?"

"Last I saw her was last Tuesday night in Brooklyn. She was with her friends - a black girl who always wears blue eye makeup and a jittery blonde."

"We need a location," said Ben.

Han directed them to the parking lot. 

"Have you talked to her friends before? Do you know who they are?" Luke asked the investigator when they got there.

"No… but never trust the parents to know what their child gets up to in the wee hours of the night," Ben pointed to the tire tracks and the discarded beer caps, "Her friends probably live near her place. Come on."

"What's her name anyway?"

"Leia Organa," he pointed up to the third floor corner apartment of a large brownstone, "That's where she lives with her parents. She's adopted, actually. Like you."

"Huh."

"Hey," Ben pointed across the street at the two girls sitting together on the front steps of their building, "Two o'clock."

"Blue eye makeup and nervous blonde," Luke murmured.

"Hello, ladies," Ben gave them his card and told them about the case.

The blonde began to cry while the other girl's blue eyeshadow was completely smudged by the time she finished relating the events of that night.

"We went to the police right away with an… an anonymous tip," the blonde spoke up for the first time, "You know, so we wouldn't get into any trouble, but… then we heard about the threatening letter Mrs. Organa got at work about not going to the police and…" she sniffled pathetically, "Oh, dear, what if we'd _killed_ her!"

"We'll do our best to find her," said Ben, patting her shoulder gently. 

"What now?" asked Luke as they boarded the train to Brooklyn.

"I know the M.O." the old man said gravely, "They call him Vader - the masked man. He's an enforcer for the mob under the man known only as Emperor. A ghost of sorts. A grim reaper."

"Holy shit," the boy exhaled.

"You should get off at the next stop -"

"Are you _kidding_? If this guy is really that dangerous, you'll need backup." 

Ben argued only a bit more before he realized it was futile.

They approached the warehouse from the loading bay in the back and were surprised to hear a sharp squeal of tires from inside before the garage door was lifted and a black van sped out, almost running them over.

" _Shit_!" Ben dusted off his knees.

"Did your C.I. rat on us?" Luke clenched his fists angrily.

As if he was summoned, the C.I. drove up, "Hop in! I don't know where they're going so now's your only chance!"

"So, did you buy her with your drug money?" Luke dropped into the passenger seat of the vintage Aston Martin while Ben took the backseat with a particularly angry-looking German Shepherd.

"Hey, if you don't like it, you can chase these monkeys on foot!" Han snapped, keying the ignition as the engine suddenly sputtered and died, "Look, she's fast and I fixed her up myself -"

"Yeah, that's sure working out for us."

The engine back revved to life, giving the C.I. license to say, "Shut your trap, boy, and buckle your seatbelt!"

The dog barked as if in agreement.

"Yeah, that's right, Chewie," Han floored it, "you tell him!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! Feedback is always appreciated :)


	3. Kiss Kiss Bang Bang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm Luke Skywalker! I'm here to rescue you! I'm here with Ben Kenobi!"

Leia woke to a pounding in her head. They'd given her a disgusting mush and water again, but that time, it put her to sleep on the concrete floor of some asshole's basement. She could tell she was sitting upright in a moving van - a fast one - but her hands were zip-tied behind her back and a black hood hung over her head. 

The girl leaned her head back and used the grill behind her to shrug the hood just off her face. When she came face to face with a menacing, gaunt-faced middle-aged man, she was surprised he let her get it all the way off. There was a beefy, tattooed man next to him, machine gun in a lazy grip between his knees.

“Ah, she’s awake,” the gaunt man’s face twisted into a mirthless smile as he stroked her chin, “It’s a shame we must ransom you back to where you came from. You’re quite the looker -”

The van swerved suddenly and the driver snarled, “No talking.” Leia recognized his voice as the masked man who abducted her.

A loud  _ bang-pop! _ sends them careening left at high speeds. They had a flat due to unnatural causes.

“Tarkin, do your motherfucking job!” the hooded man at the wheel honked his horn and another responded.

The man named Tarkin and his thug threw the double doors out and open-fired. Leia saw the same Aston Martin from the night she was abducted. 

She heard someone say, “Stop! Don’t shoot! She’s in there with them!” so she lifted her legs, which were bound together at the ankles and kicked Tarkin in the crotch with her high heeled boots. When he doubled over, he shot his thug in the back, causing him to topple out onto the road, already dead.

The Aston Martin driver was good, as Leia knew well, so he avoided running over the thug neatly, not losing a bit of ground.

“Get over here,  _ bitch _ !” Tarkin yanked her up by the front of her blouse and used her as a human shield. 

She looked into the driver’s familiar, determined hazel eyes and winked. Throwing herself onto the road, the girl took Tarkin with her. The sports car circled around them in an easy drift. From where she lay on the ground, Leia saw the van slow briefly, before barrelling on in the wake of an old man’s bullets and a lot of angry barking. 

“Get your hands off her, you punk!” the driver kicked Tarkin’s gun away and cuffed him where he lay, “You alright?”

“Yeah,” she let him cut her zip ties with his pocket knife.

“That’s gonna leave a pretty nasty bruise,” his fingers just barely brush against her forehead where it had scraped the pavement.

“How’d you find me?” the girl wondered at him in amazement.

“Aww, you know, I hear things and… I’m just glad you’re okay,” he helped her stand, “I’m Han, by the way.”

“Leia,” she was leaning in to kiss his cheek because she damn well felt like it, but the voice who had yelled for them not to shoot interrupted.

“He runs smuggling for them, that’s how he knows,” he was a handsome, blue-eyed, sandy-haired boy and he shoved Tarkin in the trunk.

“You  _ what _ ?” Leia took two steps back from Han.

“I’m a C.I.!” he defended himself, then covered his mouth and looked around to make sure no one heard. Then his eyes riveted back to the boy and he jabbed a finger in his direction, “And now I’ll probably be  _ killed _ for playin’ on your team, kid, so thanks a lot!”

“I thought you were just glad I was okay,” the girl crossed her arms.

“I  _ was _ \- I mean I  _ am _ -”

“Han,” the old man lifted the brim of his fedora and Leia got a good look at his face.

“Uncle Ben!” she ran to embrace him, “Of course,  _ you’d _ come for me,” for good measure, she gave the smuggler a stink-eye.

“Fergie's Auto in Little Italy,” Ben told his informant, “It’s their biggest money laundering operation. You can take that to your boss when you tell him I coerced you.”

“Yeah,” he simmered down a bit, “yeah, okay, a peace offering ought to do the trick…” he frowned at his car, “Does this Fergie guy fix bullet holes?”

“Not likely for Russian smugglers,” Leia was giving the German Shepherd a vigorous ear rub that he so enjoyed.

“Are we still on that?” he got into the driver’s seat, “I just said, I’m a C.I.!”

“Do you even know that that stands for?  _ Criminal _ informant.  _ Criminal _ .”

“Now, see, I’d place the emphasis on  _ informant _ -”

“We can make it stand for  _ Chauffeur Informant  _ if you drive,” Ben patted his shoulder indulgently.

“Fuck you, Ben!” Han put the car into gear anyway.

“Don’t talk to him that way!” Leia and sandy-haired blue-eyes said in unison.

“Oh, I’m Luke, by the way,” the boy reached back to shake her hand, “Nice to meet you.”

  
Leia caught Han’s eye roll in the rearview mirror, so she said extra sweetly, “And it’s so  _ very _ nice to meet  _ you _ .”


	4. Strike Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picking up right where we left off... The sun of high noon is fading into an early evening overcast...

“So what’s your story, Luke?” asked Leia over the purr of the sports car’s engine.

He told her about his aunt and uncle.

She turned immediately to Ben, “Let me help, you know I can!”

The P.I. shook his head, “Security will be tight -”

“And Junior will be in the wind the moment his father is taken into custody!” the girl protested, “You  _ know _ how this works!”

“I’m not hearing any of this,” Han interrupted, “La-la-la-la-”

“Is that true, Mr. Kenobi?” asked Luke, “‘Cause I can pay you for your trouble. The tribe’s not poor -”

“It’s not a matter of money, son,” he spoke quietly.

“ _ La-la-la-la _ -” Han chanted louder until he parked five blocks down from the 99, “This is as far as I go. I don’t need to be a snitch to the fuzz too.”

Luke and Ben got Tarkin Sr. out of the trunk and hauled him into the station, Leia just behind them.

In the backseat of the car, Chewie whined at the loss of ear rubs.

“Aw, don’t go soft on me now, Chew,” Han put the car back into gear, “We got our work cut out for us.”

After Leia was reunited with her parents, Luke and Ben caught the train back to the P.I.’s office. 

“Ah, Mace has gone to work one of the cheating husband cases for me to apologize for his tardiness,” the old man held up a pale pink sticky-note, “He loves the scandals, though, so I’m not sure how sincere of an apology he’s attempting.”

The boy asked, “Are we really waiting a week?”

“No, that was for the benefit of the self-serving smuggler,” Ben passed Luke a thick reconnaissance folder and cocked a semi-automatic, “and my niece, who loves to get into trouble.”

The folder was full of pictures of a Russian Orthodox church, an apartment building to its left, and an old Victorian house to its right. Various angles, some interior, a copy of the floor plans from city hall, the man had it covered.

“Do you know how to use one of these?” Ben held up a revolver.

“I can use a shotgun,” he said.

“In the cabinet. False bottom.”

Luke loaded the two-barrel and carried the rest of the ammunition on a belt, both of which he could hide underneath a beige trench coat Ben lent him. 

They managed to get on the train in spite of the rush hour and stood elbow to elbow with several other commuters with their eyes on magazines, newspapers, or nothing at all. Just before the doors slid shut, a dark-haired girl with big brown eyes jumped in, causing everyone to shift over a bit with light grunts and shuffles.

“Leia,” Ben said in a warning sort of way.

“What?” she challenged him, “Can’t a girl get on a train in Brooklyn anymore?”

In their present company, the P.I. couldn’t tell her off, so the three rode together, disembarked together, and walked to the church together. 

“Stay here,” Ben pointed at the payphone on the sidewalk, “Keep watch. You hear guns, call the police. You hear screaming, call the police.”

“They can’t get you for breaking and entering?” she frowned, “There are some crooked cops in this town, I tell ‘em where the sounds are coming from -”

“Look, you call the police, and you get the hell on out of here, is that understood?”

“I hear you.”

Ben and Luke were in and out of the church fairly quickly; Tarkin Jr. wasn’t in there. They were in the apartment building when Han Solo’s car drove up and idled. Leia faced away and pretended to be on the payphone so he wouldn’t see her. 

Then a Cadillac drove into the alley between the church and the old Victorian house. Tarkin Jr. - you couldn’t mistake the hollow cheeks and sallow eyes for anyone else - stepped out of the alley and went into the house. Han got out of his car, whistled for his dog, and the two were let into the house by a burly, heavily tattooed Russian.

“Hey, fellas,” Han nodded at the full house. He’d picked a bad day to screw up and he knew it.

“You said on the phone you had information,” said Tarkin Jr., taking his father’s place at the head of the long table in the dining room.

“Yeah,” Han’s eyes were on the badly burned man who stood in the darkened doorway behind the man-child. He watched the proceedings closely and from the way everyone else in the room glanced at him every now and again, it was clear, he was just as powerful as, if not more that, Tarkin Jr.

Leia dashed into the apartments, asked the kids playing in the hallway if they’d seen an old man in a fedora and a sandy-haired boy and where they’d gone. 

Ben was approaching her before she’d even completed her turn into the next line of numbered doors, “I told you to wait -”

“They’re in the house,” she told them, “Junior and Han Solo. The lights were already on before they arrived, so -”

“Get back to the phone,” he told her shortly.

“This is  _ madness _ , Uncle!” she gripped his arm tight enough to stop him, “I know what I said before, but I expect you to go in prepared -”

“And I am. Every first Wednesday of the month, you have all the Zvezda higher ups in one house, watching figure skating and playing chess.”

“And redistributing the month’s spoils into their respective offshore accounts,” added Luke, who had read the folder.

“But that’s the part we must prove.”

“They’ll kill you.”

“They won’t. That’s why I said to make that call and run if you hear anything, because we intend on flushing ‘em out.”

Leia gulped, but nodded and dashed back downstairs ahead of them.

“Alley,” Ben directed Luke, “Go around back and when the lights go out, shoot the padlock off the gate,” he handed him a smoke grenade.

“You didn’t get that from the office,” the boy took it, “Do you just carry it -”

“Maybe, throw it into the kitchen,” Taking a pen flashlight between his teeth, the P.I. cut a wire in the fuse box and the house went dark. 

Then there was a shot, but it wasn't Luke. 

Han's bit about the Italian place didn't seem to impress his bosses much. The man with the badly burned face jerked his head at one of the tattooed thugs'. 

"So…" the smuggler chuckled nervously as Chewie began to growl, "If that's all -"

"Kill the dog," said Tarkin Jr. with a chaotic twist of his mouth.

The thug drew.

"No!" Han stepped in front of Chewie and was shot in the hip.

Leia put a few coins in and called the police. Ben went around the back and there was more gunfire and the neighbors began to peek out of their doors and windows before closing their curtains and retreating further into their homes than before.

Leia prided herself on being an observant girl, a responsible girl, and as hard as she listened, she couldn't hear sirens arriving any time soon and Ben was getting on in years and Luke was a logger fresh off the reserve. Then there was the matter of Han Solo's exclamation, clearly desperate, followed immediately by his dog howling and, well, she rather owed him for his role in saving her, didn't she? So she broke into his car, hotwired it, backed up into the street, and drove it into the Russians' living room.

The dust cleared enough for Han to see his badly dented and scraped Aston Martin - was the driver’s window _ broken _ ? - and the distinctly feminine figure running towards him. "What the  _ fuck _ , lady?" 

"Who you calling  _ lady _ ?" Leia helped him up and put him in the car with his dog where they couldn't get - or were at least less likely to be - shot. Then, finally, she heard the sirens coming.

"They're running!" Luke dashed through the empty kitchen, "I'll grab Tarkin!"

The burned man held a gun to his head, stopping him cold, "Drop it and get on the -"

Ben shot the zvezda - the star tattooed on his hand - and the weapon clattered to the linoleum floor. "Go, Luke!"

The boy ran and kicked over the long table to act as a shield when Tarkin Jr. open-fired. 

Luke shot him in the foot and leapt over the table to kick the machine gun away from his fallen opponent. He punched him bloody and heaved, "Owen and Beru Lars. Those were their names."

" _ Who _ ?" Tarkin Jr. shook his head and pawed at the hand that held him down fiercely, all in vain, "What the  _ fuck _ are you talking about?"

"You  _ killed _ them, you son of a bitch!" he throttled him so the back of his head thumped repeatedly against the hardwood floor.

In one swift motion, Ben had been disarmed, but the quick-thinking P.I. grabbed an antique sword on display in the hallway.

The assassin tilted his head in amusement, but played along, dodging blows with an agility only the youth possessed. He feigned left and socked Ben in the ribs with brass knuckles. "Little unsteady, old man? Do you know who I am?"

The old man recovered, gripped the sword with two hands like a katana instead of the European way. "I've heard the stories.  _ 'Vader _ .' When people meet you, they go home to the father. You  _ killed _ your own father, didn't you?"

"You know nothing about my father."

"On the contrary, I know what he was. It's a shame how we so often grow up to be the men we hate the most, isn't it?" Ben jabbed and slashed and drew blood.

Vader was done playing games, "You're  _ dead _ !"

Luke heard this and stopped throttling Tarkin for a moment. Leia heard too and came running with a gun taken from one of the men she'd knocked out with a desk lamp.

"Make sure he doesn't go anywhere," Luke charged her.

Leia stood over the groaning, barely there son of a mobster and levelled the barrel between his eyes in warning. 

" _ Ben _ !" Luke skidded to a stop in the hallway, at the end of which was a bedroom with an open window and the man named Vader swinging his legs over the sill and jumping out.

The P.I. was on his knees, hunched over, the ornate sword in his belly, "Luke…"

"Ben, shitshitshitshit..." he couldn't pull the sword out because then he'd bleed out but with the light going out of his eyes so fast, the boy knew it wouldn't matter much in a few seconds. So he held his hand, two fingers on the pulse point, until he couldn't feel the beat anymore. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Comments? *Chewie's puppy-dog eyes* Kudos?


	5. Skywalker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the kind of day where you can see the little bits of dust floating up in the sunbeams streaming in through the blinds...

The tribe chief looked over his simple wooden desk at the bloody-faced Russian, then up at the sandy-haired boy with bruised knuckles and possibly a few broken fingers from how mangled his hands looked.

“Leave him to me,” he rumbled, “You can go see Jawa about your house -”

“I’d set it on fire again myself before I give that scrooge any business,” Luke spat and turned to leave.

“You know how to reach me if you need anything, Skywalker.”

Luke didn’t turn back.

Mr. Organa stared at the envelope on their welcome mat. Why his brother-in-law mailed him the keys to his office in Queens was a question of concern -  _ what did he have in there and what did he want done now that he was gone? _

“Leave it with me,” pleaded Leia when she found it on the coffee table the morning after the funeral.

“You have university to think about -”

“Done thinking. I’ll accept Harvard, now let me -”

“Then you need to start pack-”

Leia swiped the envelope off the desk and bolted out the door before her father could even grasp her arm or utter a definitive “no.”

“Luke?” she approached the sandy-haired boy sleeping on the bench outside her uncle’s office.

His eyes shot open and he stumbled to his feet, “I… I had nowhere else to go…”

The girl held up Ben’s key, “Do you want to come in with me?”

He nodded and she unlocked the door. 

“Well,” Luke approached the desk where there lay a single manila envelope addressed to both of them, “that’s convenient… The place wasn’t half so organized before we left.”

“So who’s been here? I don’t recognize the handwriting,” Leia ripped open the envelope.

Two birth certificates and one death certificate slid out. 

“Who’s Padmé Naberrie?” the boy examined the death certificate first.

“I think…” the girl looked at the birth certificates side by side, “I think she was… our mother.”

“She was Métis,” Luke sat down, “So she might’ve known Owen and Beru… Does it say who… our father is?”

Leia shook her head, running her fingers over the labeled files in Ben’s easy-access drawer, “I’ve looked before, you know… but the archives in Brooklyn burned down and there was a misfile for the originals - these originals…”

“Hang on, there’s something else here too,” he stuck his hand into the envelope and came up with a thick, pale green calling card. “ _The_ _Skywalkers”_ was scribbled onto the back, but all that was printed on the front was _Yoda_.

“Is that… also for both of us?”

“I was told Skywalker was my native name, but I guess -”

“No shit,” a drawling voice attached to a swaggering body ambled into the office, leaning slightly to the right because of his hip. “Hate to break it to you, kid, but you’re as blond and blue-eyed as an Aryan.”

“What do you want, Shlomo?” Luke narrowed his eyes at him.

“It’s  _ Solo _ ,” Han crossed his arms.

“No, it’s Shlomo. I read your file.”

“Well, then you know that I’m no more a kike than an Irishman named O’Conner. Listen, I just came to help, but if you’d rather I leave -”

“Help how?” Leia challenged, “You’re blown.”

“Fergie’s is still in business. That’s the last tip Ben gave me, so…”

“So give it to the police.” 

“Oh, yeah, sure, easy, I just walk into a station with a rap sheet a mile long and several BOLOs out on Falcon -”

“Who?”

“My wheels.”

“Just how many people in Brooklyn own an Aston Martin? I’m surprised they haven’t locked you up yet.”

“You’d be surprised what a pretty face like this can do, princess.”

“ _ Out _ .  _ Now _ . This is a  _ family _ matter.” 

Out in the hallway, Chewie the German Shepherd, whined and padded in.

“Hey, boy,” Leia’s manner went from cold to warm in a second, “How’re you doin’? Where you goin’?”

The dog padded down the hall to the dentist’s office. 

“Sorry, bud,” Han followed him, “that’s a humans only kind of thi-”

Just then a patient exited and Chewie bolted in with a loud bark.

“ _ Chewie _ !  _ No _ ! Bad dog!”

“Should we help him?” Luke looked at his sister, who shrugged, sighed and followed the man.

“What is the meaning of this?” a portly dentist with tired gray-blond hair was standing on top of one of his counters, backed up into the wall, while Chewie growled at him from the ground and snapped at his heels.

“ _ Down _ , boy!  _ Down _ !” Han called to no avail.

“I’m going to call animal control,” said Luke.

“No!” Han.

“Wait!” Leia.

“Oh, we’re agreeing now?” the man tipped an imaginary hat, “Well, I’m much obliged.”

“I am just  _ one _ of your snarky comments away from disagreeing with you out of spite,” she knelt beside the dog and softened her tone, “Now, Chewie, if you’ve got something to tell us, could you do it without scaring the poor dentist, please?”

“He’s not gonna list-”

The dog quieted, jumped onto the patient chair and then onto the counter. The dentist backed further into the corner of the counter. 

“I think you can come down now, Dr…?” Leia held out a hand to him.

“Hutt,” he lowered himself off the counter. 

Chewie continued to sniff and paw at the corner of the wall he had been backed against.

“What is it, boy?” Han knocked against the wall, “It’s hollow.”

“It’s a cheap wall,” Dr. Hutt huffed, cheeks flapping, “and if you don’t leave right now, I  _ will _ call animal control to get rid of the mutt  _ and _ the police to arrest you for trespassing!”

“Hey!” he advanced on the doctor, pushing Luke out of the way and towards the hollow wall, “Chewie ain’t no mutt! He’s a purebred German Shepherd! I mean, sure the fuzz were about to put him out to pasture, but he -”

_ Thud-crash!  _ “Ow,” Luke slumped beside the wall, his hand stuck in the hole it made. 

Leia pulled away some of the surrounding plaster, “You’ve got to unclench -”

“No, there’s something in there -”

“Don’t be a baby -”

“Let go -”

“No,  _ you _ let go -”

“I got it!” a bag of heroin was clenched in his fist, “That’s a bit strong for putting in crowns, isn’t it, Dr. Hutt?”

The doctor turned to run, but Han grabbed the back of his white coat and landed a knockout punch.

“Now, we can call the police, Solo,” Leia instructed, taking out some gauze to treat Luke’s right hand, which was in even worse condition than before. 

“Naw, you better call ‘em,” Han tied the doctor to the patient’s chair, “Chewie and I will clear out -”

“How will we explain how we found the drugs without the dog?”

“You’re P.I.s?” he shrugged.

“Ben had a file detailing all the cases you helped him with,” Luke winced when he tried to flex his fingers, “and a personal letter to the D.A. explaining why you should only be sentenced as far as community service.”

“And did he in fact  _ personally _ know this D.A.?”

“Yes,” answered Leia.

“... Fine. Come on, Chewie,” Han walked to the front reception to make the call.

“Don’t forget to tell them about Fergie’s!” she called after him.

“Did Ben actually know the D.A.?” asked Luke.

“I saw the file you mentioned in his drawer,” said Leia, “but does that letter actually exist?”

“You know, I feel kinda bad for him.”

“My mother’s a lawyer. He’ll be fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always love hearing from you <3 (Hi, Linda! I really appreciate you following this series, xx.)


	6. Out of Our Depth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Luke gets beat up and Leia and Han flirt-fight, so basically, what else is new? Well, Yoda's here, for starters.

Luke stood in front of the mirror in the back room of Ben’s office. The landlord had taken one look at his slept-in clothes and told him expressly that it was not for living in. Mace, who was there clearing out his desk, had given him a sympathetic look. The boy didn’t listen to the landlord, naturally. So he stood there at seven-thirty, the open sign already up against the glass front door, trying on one of Ben’s old fedoras. He thought it rather suited him.

The door opened and closed. Six heavy pairs of feet. He angled the mirror to see through to the front room. Zvezda. And Fergie, who must’ve gotten out on bail after they busted him.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” he shoved his hands in his pockets and surveyed the room like he was seeing them all for the first time. 

Fergie spoke up, “We’d like to hire you, Mr…?”

“Skinner,” he shook his hand firmly before taking up Ben’s legal pad, “Have a seat - you might have to play musical chairs for them, I apologize, but there’s a long bench outside that might be more comfortable…” no one moved to leave, “Or you can all stay here, sure. What’s the job, Mr. Vance?” 

“No notes,” said the money launderer.

Luke put down the pad amiably.

“Certain people… may come to you… People we’re in business with… they may well be looking to run out on their debt, things like that.”

The boy nodded slowly, but didn’t speak.

“We’d like you to… keep us in the loop, huh?”

He smiled, “Well, my rates are flexible. What are you guys offering?”

Fergie forced out a dry laugh, “Mr. Skinner, we’ve paid you in full when you led the cops to our operation.”

“I didn’t keep the money, as you can probably tell,” he gestured down at his clothes. He really needed to buy new clothes. Maybe some of Ben’s would fit him too.

“Nevertheless, that’s the job and we’re not putting out a cent more.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Vance,” he tipped his hat to the Zvezda, “gentlemen, but you understand, I only have so many hours in a day, so naturally, I’ve got to pick the jobs that pay the best.”

The Italian nodded, pouted his lips, shrugged, and jerked his head towards Luke. The Zvezda stood as one.

“I do hope you change your mind, Mr. Skinner,” Fergie stood, buttoned his blazer and left. 

Two Russians came around both sides of the desk towards him.

Luke stood as well and took his fisted hands out of his pockets, “Hey, fellas,” he landed a punch on the nearest thug before the second one pulled him back and held him up for the other to punch.

When they’d had their fun, they dropped him on the ground behind the desk, kicked him a couple times like one might a stray dog who’d been eating into the trash. Then they left. Only when he heard the door shut behind them and their footfalls recede down the empty hallway did Luke let out a forlorn groan. 

The door opened again and a voice said, “Don’t be so discouraged. I don’t know what you were hoping to find. Skinner is a pretty common name.”

“I’m not discouraged,” said a female voice this time, “I’m  _ dejected _ .”

“What’s the diff- _ shit _ ! Skywalker!”

Luke winced as he was put back in Ben’s chair and nodded his greetings, “Shlomo.”

“Don’t call me that, kid.”

“Ugnnhh,” he batted his sister’s hand away from his broken nose.

“What happened?” Leia asked, getting some ice and bandages from the back room.

He told them about Fergie. “We’re out of our depth here,” he picked up the pale green card with their names on it, “I found a lead last night. An apartment in Manhattan.”

“You mean you checked the phonebook,” Han pointed at the said book open on the desk.

“Good,” said Leia, “You look into that. Shlomo and I will find us a new office.”

“Don’t -” the man shook his head at her, “What’s wrong with this one?”

“The Brooklyn mobs know where it is. They can find us again, sure, but we’ll have bought some time. Hopefully enough to have some help with us next time.”

“Who do you guys think this ‘Yoda’ fella is, a-a  _ ninja _ ?” Han made some mock fighting sounds.

The girl put her hands on her hips, “Do you know someone who can help us or not, Mr. I-Know-Things?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get your panties in a twist,” he made for the door. 

She turned to her brother, “Try not to get beat up again before we see each other next.”

“No promises,” he put the fallen fedora back on his head and followed them out.

While Luke took the subway to Manhattan, Han and Leia drove to Washington Heights.

“How is this better than mob-ville?” she asked him.

“It’s my neighborhood,” he got out of the car. 

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

“Lando!” Han approached a brightly dressed man with a distinguished mustache. He looked very out of place among the streeters he had been talking to, but they all surrounded him protectively at the sight of the newcomers.

“It’s alright,” said the man, who opened his arms in magnanimous greeting, “Solo! Good to see you! And who might this be?”

“Uh, this is Leia Organa,” he introduced her.

“Hi,” she shook his hand firmly.

“Pleasure,” he smiled warmly, “What can I do for you?”

“We need an office, Mr. Lando,” said the girl, “Nondescript. Clean.”

“Please, just Lando is fine,” he led them up the street, “Budget?”

Han and Leia shared a look.

“Low,” they said.

The man chuckled, “I know just the place.”

Meanwhile, Luke received many stares while waiting for and in the elevator of a swanky Manhattan highrise. One lady even went so far as to pinch her nose in disgust. He responded by tipping his hat to her and wishing her a good day, which only disturbed her further, much to his amusement. 

He knocked on the door of Yoda Yoshi’s apartment and waited. What sounded like a stool was placed on the other side of the door. Then someone climbed on and off it. Luke waved at the peehole, thinking it was a child on the other side. The stool was scraped back and the door opened. Coming up to his chest was a little old man with just a few white hairs spattered atop his head and on his chin.

“Uh… Mr. Yoshi?”

“Skywalker,” his voice was high and squeaky, “In, come.”

By the afternoon, Han and Leia had moved almost everything from Ben’s old office to their new one in Washington Heights. Han was making one more trip for the clothes and personal effects in the backroom. 

Leia put up the blinds and pulled them up suddenly, “ _ Agh _ !”

“ _ Agh _ !” Han started. He had been checking his reflection in the mirror. The hand in his hair went down to his side quickly, then to the cup tray to make sure the coffee didn’t spill.

“What are you doing sneaking around like that, you scoundrel?” she scolded him as he came in.

“Scoundrel? Is that what you call all the guys who save your life -” 

“I paid you back for that.” 

“By completely wrecking my car -” 

“How did you get that fixed up so quickly anyway? Didn’t call in any illicit favors, did you?”

“Who the hell are you, my mother?”

“Is that coffee?”

“No, it’s apple juice,” he handed her a cup, his face twisted into a sarcastic imitation of her aloof expression, “Yes, princess, it’s coffee.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Luke stood up awkwardly beside the little man as yet another resident walked past them in the hall. “This is silly. If this were a real job, I’d just kick the door in!”

“And when your suspect comes back, he or she will be wise to you!” Yoda shook his head, “No. This way, you will learn to do it.”

The boy rolled his eyes, sighed, and stuck the metal prongs into the lock again. He heard a click, but not all the tumblers were aligned. He tried to change the angle of his picks without taking them out and putting them back in again, afraid he might lose the ones he had been able to align. The thinnest part of the metal snapped and was stuck in the lock.

“Oops?” he looked at the old man, who let out a long-suffering sigh, took the broken prong out of the lock and brought out his own lock picking set.

“Watch,” Yoda rumbled, closed his eyes, and unlocked the door to his apartment in ten seconds flat. Then he locked the door again. “Now you do it.”

“Look, I just wanted to know if you could help us with -”

“I  _ am _ helping you.”

“ _ No _ , you’re putting me through some weird P.I. initiation shit -”

“I am  _ old _ , Skywalker -”

“My name is  _ Luke _ -”

“Your mother knew her time was coming when she had you and your sister. She did everything she could to prepare the way for you.”

“How did you know her?”

“There will be time enough for that later. Now, you must prepare  _ yourself _ .”

  
“This is  _ definitely _ some weird P.I. initiation shit,” nevertheless, he knelt down and set to work on the lock once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love hearing from you, as always <3 I've always believed that if something I write affects even just one person positively, then I'm going to write it for them, but sometimes it can be hard to find motivation when a fic is... niche? What I'm trying to say is that I really appreciate all your comments, kudos, hits, bookmarks, and subscriptions and this fic is for you! xx
> 
> Hit me up on Tumblr [@littlejeanniebean](https://littlejeanniebean.tumblr.com/) for more writing and stuff :)


	7. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ship is sailing~ (*minor* turbulence notwithstanding)

“That’s him,” Leia stretched in the direction of their target, “That’s the guy Mona thinks is stalking her. Bob Fett.” 

“She’s going into Theatre 3,” Han whispered into the shell of her ear, looking over her shoulder at the young woman with a page-boy cut and flowing white dress.

“Buy the tickets.”

“Wait, why me?”

“Because the man buys on a first date.”

“But you’re richer than I am.”

“And that’s why you work for me. Now hurry up and buy those tickets.”

The stalker in a swamp-green hoodie followed Mona into the theatre. 

“Hurry, hurry,” Leia bounced on the balls of her feet.

“The tickets aren’t going to print any faster,” Han muttered.

“Here you go,” said the attendant, “Enjoy -”

“Yeah, yeah,” the smuggler-turned-associate-P.I. led the way into the theatre. 

The hooded stalker turned to watch them as they sat across the aisle from him. 

“He keeps looking at us,” said Leia after a while, “I think we’ve been made.”

“What do we do?”

Her eyes lit up with an idea, “We do what all couples do that no one ever questions.”

Han gives her a sly smile and leans in. 

“No, you ass!” she hits his shoulder not-lightly, “We fight!”

“Oh.”

“Louder.”

“ _ Oh _ !  _ Okay _ , I see how it is!”

“Shh!” the theatre-goers hissed.

“It’s the previews, calm down!” he talked back.

“So you see how it is, is that right?” Leia drew his attention back to her. 

“Well, I - I -” he looked at her helplessly before declaring, “I love you!”

“I know!”

“You  _ what _ ?”

She grabbed him by the shirt collar, “Now, we can make out like a pair of hormonal teenagers.” 

“We  _ are _ a pair of hormonal teenagers.”

“Are you going to kiss me or not?”

He kissed her.

Leia opened her eyes to look over at their target, whose attention was back on Mona. She pulled away, “Nice work.”

“You too,” Han managed.

After the movie, Leia snapped a few more pictures of Mona and her stalker. "That should be enough for her to get a restraining order. I'll meet her at the office and give 'em to her."

"Alright," the man shoved his hands in his pockets, "Uh… can I give you a ride?"

"The office is literally four blocks away."

"Oh, right. Well, g'night."

"Goodnight," she smiled.

Han drove back to his apartment in Brooklyn. At least, that was his intent, but his front tire began to lose air after Brooklyn Bridge and he’d just gotten new rims in. When he got out of his car to check the damage, he found a nail embedded in the rubber, which was not concerning in itself, but when two town cars parallel parked in front and behind him, the former C.I. knew enough to be glad Leia decided to let him go solo. 

“Hey, Jewboy,” Fergie advanced on him, flanked by some Russians, as well as his own men, “You people just don’t know how to take a hint, do you?”

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Han remained crouched and unbuckled the backup he kept in his boot.

“Well, the good news is, we’re not gunna beat on you like we did your friends.”

“Great, ‘cause, uh…” he pulled the backup out of the holster slowly as the thugs closed in, “I actually got places to be, people to see -”

“Hold on, hold on,” Fergie held up his ringed hands, “you didn’t let me tell you the bad news.”

Han made a go-ahead motion with one hand, aiming his gun at the Italian from the shadow of his crouched form.

“The Jews want you alive so they can kill you themselves.”

“Oh, is that all?” he smiled sarcastically and shot Fergie in the chest, two of his men, and one Russian before the other five disarmed him.

“You’re gunna pay for that!” said one of them.

“You killed Joey!” said another.

“We oughtta stuff his throat with bullets right now!”

“Whoa, hey, they want me alive, remember?” Han thought quickly as their beet-red faces looked ready to murder him for the stray dogs to find, “and the reward money will be a much nicer split this way, no?”

“Wait, there’s reward money in this shit?” asked a Russian. 

“Of course, there is, dumbass,” answered one of his comrades.

“So what do we do?” asked the palest of them all, whom Han mentally referred to as  _ Thug 1 _ .

“Duct tape ‘im,” said the most stocky, whom Han dubbed  _ Thug 2 _ . 

Thug 1 man duct-taped his ankles together while 2 took his wrists behind his back. 

“Damn, you guys really are new at this, huh?” he mused casually, and indifferent to their death-glares, continued, “Yeah, you actually want to do the ankles last, at least when you’re dealing with a guy my size. Unless you actually want to carry me yourselves.”

The most heavily tattooed, who coincidentally, looked most like a pig,  _ Thug 3 _ , whipped out a long, sharp knife. 

“Whoa, hey, it was just some constructive feed-”

He plunged the knife through the tape at his ankles, “Walk, mocky.”

“Degrade your captive,” the man grunted as he stood, “That’s good. Hostage-taking 101.”

“ _ Quiet _ , kike,” that was  _ Thug 4 _ , the youngest and scrawniest, but he had such a mean face.

“Get in the trunk,” and there was  _ Thug 5 _ , the forgettable one. 

“You know I could scream and none of you would be able to do anything about it because your business partners want me alive.”

“Yeah? You want your little girlfriend from the theatre to come save you?”  _ Thug 1  _ sneered.

“Yeah, she’d kick your asses.”

They all laughed uproariously before  _ Thug 4 _ clocked him upside the skull and he blacked out. Han really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut because if he had, he might’ve been awake to scream for help. He might’ve never lived down the embarrassment of being saved by the fuzz that hated his guts for slipping through their fingers, but he wouldn’t have awoken to the flabby-cheeked, bug-eyed Rabbi Hutt, brother of Dr. Hutt, the dentist. The Rabbi was also the first organized criminal Han had ever turned on, back when he was fifteen. 

“Shlomo,” the old man smiled, unnervingly bright, “I’m so glad you could make it to teshuva. It is high time to purify your soul.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YELL AT ME!  
> Tumblr: [@littlejeanniebean](https://littlejeanniebean.tumblr.com/)


	8. Someone Who Loves You

“Alliance Detective Agency, how may I help you?” Reneé answered the phone.

“Leia,” Simone barged into their new Washington Heights office, “I found this Hebrew leaflet from Han’s old neighborhood and I talked to the ancient lady who prints it - only speaks Hebrew - and she said that the Rabbi and Han have bad blood going back a few years now. Look at the Rabbi’s surname,” she pointed.

“It’s in Hebrew.”

“It’s Hutt.”

“ _ Hutt _ ?”

“I checked the registry on my way back here. He’s related to your former neighbor.”

“We’ll be able to launch an investigation shortly and contact you with next steps, good day,” Reneé hung up.

Leia picked up the phone and tried Luke at his new Manhattan number again, but it just kept on ringing. “We can’t wait.”

“Where are we going?” her smaller friend jumped up.

“I think one of us should wait here,” Simone piped up nervously, “Just in case Luke or Han come back.”

“You should both stay here,” Leia pulled on her beige trench coat, “I’m going to need a list of all the Rabbi’s property holdings, the ones owned by the congregation too. I’ll call you for it in…” she checked her watch, “half an hour. If I’m not back twenty-four hours from then, call the police.”

She went to the Rabbi’s synagogue while the service was on and peered into the barred basement windows, but it was all storage. The girl tied a handkerchief over her head and snuck into the screened women’s area, then up into each of the two spires. No good kidnapper would keep a prisoner in a public space, but Leia felt her due diligence was required anyway and anyway, now she knew what Rabbi Hutt looked like and could do her best to follow him. 

Sneaking out before the service ended, she called the office for the property list and copied down what Reneé read out to her. “I gotta go. Let’s see which one of these he leads me to. If he doesn’t, I’ll work my way from the most isolated, back into the city.”

“Do you still want us to call the police in twenty-four?”

“ _ Yes _ !” Simone screeched in the background, “Yes, of course, right, Leia?  _ Right _ ?”

“Yes, but be sure to tell them they could be walking into a hostage situation.”

“Right,” Reneé hung up, cutting off Simone’s fretting. 

Leia hailed a taxi and told him to keep the meter running. When the Rabbi got into his car, she told the driver to follow him. 

“Who are you, his mistress or something?” the taxi driver chuckled.

“Or something,” the girl pursed her lips as the drive took them to the Bronx. 

The Rabbi’s car stopped in front of a brownstone.

“Stop here,” she told the driver and paid him, “Keep the meter running a little longer, won’t you?”

“I mean,” he greedily counted out the bills she’d handed him, “sure thing.”

Leia got out after the Rabbi had gone inside and looked into the basement windows, but they were all covered by tarpaulin and bearing a home security sticker. If she broke in now while there were people inside, she wouldn’t need to circumvent the burglar alarm. The P.I. broke the window lock with a nail file and listened. She could hear two sets of lungs breathing heavily. 

Someone spat loudly and drawled weakly, “That all you got?” It was Han. 

A punch landed, two, three. Then a man with a raspy voice said, “The Rabbi’s home. Now that you’ve repented, Shlomo, he can send you home to the Lord.”

The lights clicked off and heavy footsteps went up the stairs. Leia acted fast and slid in through the window. 

“Who’s there?” Han jolted, attempting to turn around in the chair he was tied to, “Hey, answer me! Who’s there?”

“Someone who’d  _ really _ appreciate it if you’d shut up so you won’t alert the guards -  _ shit _ ,” Leia heard voices nearing as she cut through his bonds, “What the  _ fuck _ , Solo? I was trying to rescue you!”

Han fell off the chair without the duct tape and zip ties holding him there. “Sorry, princess. Just leave the way you came, okay?”

“Shut up and move your ass,” she yanked him to his feet and dragged him to the open window.

“What do you know?” 

Leia didn’t turn around. She knew the Rabbi’s voice from the synagogue.

“The princess has come to save her knight.”

The three men he brought with him laughed as Han slumped against the wall. 

“Can’t you climb out the window?” the girl whispered out of the corner of her mouth, “It’s right above you!”

The beaten man groaned, “You climb out the window. I can hold ‘em off long enough for you to make it.”

Two of the men, still dressed in his Sabbath best, advanced on Leia.

“That’s the biggest -” she cut one’s throat with her knife before the other twisted it out of her grasp, “- load of -” she pepper-sprayed the second attacker just as a third stepped up, “bullshit I’ve ever heard!” she kneed him in the groin and punched him in the nose. 

Then a gun cocked and was levelled at her chest. The Rabbi. “I think we’re done playing, hmm?”

The doorbell rang.

“Did you want to get that?” asked Leia, “We don’t mind waiting.” 

A loud bang resounded from upstairs. Just then, a boy with sandy-blond hair dropped in through the window, landing on Han, who let out a pathetic, “Ow! Watch where you’re -”

Leia ducked as the Rabbi and Luke fired at the same time. 

“- going,” Han finished as the Rabbi slumped to the ground. 

The twins embraced, just shy of properly terrified. 

The brother said, “When I got back to the office Simone -”

“- was crying?”

“For lack of a better word. Reneé gave me the list of the Rabbi’s properties and I asked Yoda -”

“Is that him upstairs?” 

“Ye-”

“Oh, shit, the taxi!” Leia clambered out the window before sticking her arms back down so Luke could hoist Han up. 

“Ow, ow, ow, watch the ribs!”

They got him out of the basement and got into the back of the taxi. Yoda was already sitting in the passenger seat, wiping a long, bloody knife. 

“Uh…” the driver gulped, “Where to?”

“Manhattan, please,” said the old man before turning to Leia and Han, “Meeting you is nice.”

“Likewise,” said the girl, craning her neck awkwardly to make room for Han’s head on her shoulder. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yell at me :)
> 
> Tumblr: [@littlejeanniebean](https://littlejeanniebean.tumblr.com/)


	9. Vader

The door to the office burst open and banged against the wall once, twice, “I found him!”

“Jeez, Leia,” Luke takes a napkin and sops up the coffee he’d been made to spill, “Could you knock?”

“Don’t you want to know who he is?” she closed the door and sat down in one of the client chairs across from him.

“For which case is this?”

“Ours.”

“They’re all ours -”

“No, I mean  _ ours _ ,” she put the file on his desk, “Anakin Svirsky. He died in Vietnam. He’s our father. His files were held confidential by the military office. That’s why we could never find them before now.”

Luke flipped through the limited war records before landing on the death certificate and a small, wallet-size picture. A young man with sandy blond hair and blue eyes the same as his own stared back at him dressed in an army green uniform. “He... looks familiar.”

“He looks just like you,” his sister whispered. 

“I found him!” Han burst in through the door, which banged once this time, but very loudly against the wall. 

“You two are made for each other, honestly,” Luke threw his hands up, his skin still crawling with aftershocks. 

“Who’d you find?” Leia turned to look at the man who’d just come back to work after forced sick leave. 

“Mr. Endelmann,” Han sat beside her and put his feet up on Luke’s desk. The boy swatted them down quickly and took meeting notes, since his associate never bothered to file any reports on his own findings. 

“From the home invasion?” the girl pressed him for more information. 

“Yup.”

“Where’d you find him?”

“Invading the home.”

“ _ What _ ?”

“That’s why nothing was ever taken. He was reading bedtime stories to his kids, pretending to be the monster under their beds, in their closets, that’s why his wife never found the intruder, the kids were covering for him.”

“That’s enough grounds for a restraining order as well as charges. I’ll call Mrs. Endelmann and tell her -”

“Come on, the guy just wants to spend some time with his kids!”

“He should have thought of that before he separated -”

“Separation is a  _ mutual _ decision -”

“Clearly it isn’t if he’s not abiding by their arrangement -”

“Okay, but how can  _ he _ be the one who separated if  _ he’s _ not staying away from -”

“He broke into their  _ house _ !”

“Because she changed the  _ locks _ !”

“Because he wouldn’t return his  _ keys _ !”

“He  _ bought _ the place!”

“ _ Her _ name is on the deed too!”

“ _ Okay _ !” Luke interrupted them, “You two stay here and sort out whatever this is. I’ll talk to Mrs. Endelmann and hopefully convince her not to press charges and to work out a more…  _ mutually agreeable _ arrangement with her husband.”

“ _ Ex _ -husband,” Leia reminded him while Han sent her a withering look.

“Yeah,” the boy shrugged on his jacket and put on his fedora before leaving quickly in the wake of more bickering. He stopped between Reneé and Simone’s desks, “If it suddenly gets quiet in there and stays that way for too long -”

“We’ll look in and make sure they haven’t killed each other,” Reneé promised.

After that, Luke had a very short conversation with Mrs. Endelmann in Brooklyn, which is to say, she asked if they knew who the intruder was, he said it was her husband and she shut the door in anger before, the detective presumed, storming to her telephone to yell at him.

On his way back to the metro, Luke noticed a tall, bald man with sky blue eyes and horrible burns across his face across the street. Vader. He gave pursuit, darting around taxis and private vehicles. Looking ahead, he saw his mark disappear into an alley. The boy took his gun out of his holster and rounded the corner, meeting a knife to the neck. 

“Drop the gun,” Vader told him and he had no choice but to listen. 

“What?” he challenged as the assassin just stared him down, “If you’re going to kill me -”

“Kill you?” the man dragged the knife down the boy’s shoulder and arm, “I think you know that is not what I want.”

“Then what do you want?” not that Luke would ever give it to him.

“What does any father want, but the love of his son?”

“ _ W-What _ ?”

“I know your sister pulled my war records -”

“No -”

“I know you must recognize me,” he gestured at his grotesque features, “even now.”

“ _ No _ !” Luke broke away from Vader’s hold, “You are  _ not _ my father!”

The man scowled and grabbed Luke’s hand, pinning it to the wall by sticking the knife in his pinky finger.

“ _ Augh _ !”

“It’s for your own good. If they think I let you get away with nothing. The Emperor will come for us both. Go back to the reserve. Go back to cutting trees.” then Vader ascended the fire escape of the adjacent brownstone and even though a kind young man volunteered to give chase, he returned empty handed. 

“I’m going to kill him,” Luke sat in the E.R. two hours later, his pinky finger lying in the metal pan beside the bed, “for Ben.”

Leia and Han had momentarily stopped bickering and were looking over him with concern. 

“It was when you went after Tarkin Jr. for your aunt and uncle,” his sister reminded him, “that Ben was killed.” 

“I know I fucked shit up with that,  _ okay _ ?” Luke cried, “I know I… know it’s my fault he’s… I’ve got to try to make it right...”

“Look, kid,” Han shoved his hands in his jean pockets, “A guy like your old man -”

“He’s not our father,” the twins said in unison.

“Hey, I don’t like my pops either, but that doesn’t stop biology -”

“My father is a government official,” said Leia firmly.

“My father managed the floor at a pulp mill,” said Luke quietly.

“The point is,” Han continued, “a man like that will get himself killed eventually. I know from experience. Just… let nature take its course.”

“Han Solo,” a nurse came in and smiled with unabashed glee with the rugged man with a lopsided grin raised his hand, “telephone for you.”

Leia crossed her arms sourly as he left.

Luke mistook her annoyance to be directed at himself and sighed, “Fine, I’ll leave him alone as long as  _ he _ leaves  _ us _ alone.”

“That was Lando,” Han flipped the curtain aside haphazardly, “turns out Endelmann took up my old position with the Zvezdas. Remember how Chewie kept barking in their kitchen?”

Leia frowned, “Didn’t Mrs. Endelmann have a meat pie in the oven?”

“But what if he keeps his stock there and what if he couldn’t get it out before the missus  _ kicked _ him out. Only now Vader’s hanging around the neighborhood, putting on the pressure. He’s gotta get their stock back, so he’s sneaking in -”

“Breaking in.”

“Yes, thank you,” he smiled sarcastically, “and smuggling it out bit by bit, using his kids as cover.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Luke swung his legs off the bed, “Let’s check that kitchen again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once more into the breach, dear friends...   
> I hope you had as much fun reading this as I've enjoyed writing it!  
> One more chapter to go!


	10. Father

“C’mon, Chewie, where is it?” Han urged, tugging at the dog’s leash, “It’s not in any of the cabinets, what are we doing? Sniff somewhere else!”

“What if he doesn’t mean the cabinets?” Leia got on her knees and picked at the edge of the old, crusty linoleum flooring, rising up to meet the bottom of the kitchen cabinets, “It’s coming loose!”

“You can’t just tear up my floor!” Mrs. Endelmann threw her arms up and spun around so quickly that Mr. Endelmann was caught halfway down the stairs, “Arrest him! Arrest him _at_ _once_!”

“Mrs. Endelmann, we’re not the police,” Luke tried to explain, fidgeting with the rim of his fedora, “we can only ask him, same as you -”

The doorbell rang. 

“Are you expecting anybody?” he asked. 

Mrs. Endelmann crossed her arms and said loudly, “What at  _ this _ hou-”

“ _ Quiet _ !” the P.I. hissed, but it was too late, the front door was breached and Vader, or Anakin, whoever he was, strode in with two tattooed thugs. 

“You’re still here,” the burned man scowled menacingly. 

“ _ You’re _ still on the wrong side of this,” Luke stuffed his hands in his pockets casually. 

Han and Leia had found Endelmann’s stash in the kitchen, but quickly replaced the flooring so that the mafia enforcer wouldn’t find it. 

With one hand holding Chewie’s leash and the other brandishing a semi-automatic, Han stepped in front of Mrs. Endelmann, “I think you oughta leave now, Toasty.”

Leia levelled her shotgun between the short display shelves that separated the kitchen from the foyer and waited for an opening. She remained unnoticed. 

In one swift motion, Vader grabbed Luke while his thugs grabbed Mr. Endelmann. 

“One move,” Vader held a gun to his son’s temple, “I shoot.”

“He’s bluffing!” Luke cried, “He won’t do it! He could’ve killed me earlier today, but he didn’t!”

“Oh,  _ yeah _ ?” the assassin pressed the barrel harder so it made an imprint on the boy’s cheek, “Try me. Where’s the stash, Endelmann?”

“Daddy,” a little girl stood at the top of the stairs beside her older brother, peeking out between the railings, “Daddy, what’s -”

“It’s fine, go back to your room, honey,” Mr. Endelmann turned around, exposing the thugs to Leia’s line of sight, “Junior, stay with your sister, okay?”

The children nodded, scared pale. “Goodnight.” 

_ Bang! Bang! _

Mrs. Endelmann and her children screamed and wailed as Vader pointed his glock in Leia’s direction and tightened his chokehold on Luke.

“Mr. Endelmann, take your children upstairs,” Leia’s position was compromised, so she might as well reveal herself and hope her armed presence lent some intimidation, “Mrs. Endelmann, go out the back.”

The civilians did as they were told.

“You’re outnumbered, Vader. Let him go and you’ll walk out with your life.”

The assassin scoffed. “I don’t think so.”

Just then, a very pale, richly dressed man walked up to the front door, which was still hanging on to its hinges for all it was worth. 

“Knock, knock,” he smiled, revealing crooked yellow teeth and an English accent. 

“That’s the Emperor,” Han muttered out the corner of his mouth. 

“I don’t care if he’s the President,” said Leia loudly, “if he takes one more step, he’s dead!”

The Emperor just smiled wider and languidly rolled something across the carpet. 

“ _ Flash bomb _ !” Han yanked her backwards and they stumbled out the back of the house. 

Their ears stopped ringing in time for them to hear the tell-tale screech of tires. 

“ _ Luke _ !” Leia ran back into the house, but her brother wasn’t there. 

He was in the backseat of the Emperor’s Cadillac, his father holding a glock to his side. 

“Young Mr. Svirsky, you have a gift,” said the Englishman, “that could be very helpful to your father and I.”

“I’d never help you.”

Vader pressed the gun barrel harder into his ribs in warning. 

Luke paid him no mind, “Any man I would consider a father of mine would turn himself in and use what he knows to help bring the Zvezda to its knees before the law.”

“Oh, well,” the Emperor pulled up to the edge of a bridge under construction, “Perhaps your sister would make a more practical decision when we put it to her.” 

“Clearly, you haven’t met her.”

The Englishman sighed, bored, and turned to Vader, “Kill him.” 

The burned man raised his glock, Luke looked him squarely in the eyes. Leia was right, they were just like his. 

“Kill him or if you haven’t the stomach, I  _ will _ ,” the Emperor pulled his own gun out of his shoulder holster. 

Anakin Svirsky turned to his employer and shot him dead, taking a bullet to the chest himself. 

The car began to roll forward, towards the end of the bridge. Luke opened the door and pulled his father towards it. The car rolled faster. 

“Luke,” Svirsky removed his son’s grip on his jacket, blood spilling out of his mouth, “Go. You were right. You’re on the right side of this. Tell your sister…” he chuckled ruefully, “good shot,” With the last of his strength, he kicked Luke out of the car just before it tipped over the edge and splashed into the water. 

An Aston Martin squealed as it turned the corner towards Luke and drifted to a halt. He looked at it forlornly. Inside the car, Han and Leia shared a look of concern, then the latter stuck his head out the window, “C’mon! Simone just called from the office! One of Fergie’s restaurant fronts is moving ‘stock’ tonight! We can catch them in the act, but we’ve got to hurry!”

Luke squared his shoulders and got in, “I thought you killed Fergie?” 

“I shot him, but apparently I didn’t kill him. Don’t you just  _ hate _ modern medicine sometimes?”

“Slow  _ down _ , you’re gonna miss your turn!” Leia snapped and Chewie barked from the backseat as if to echo her sentiment. 

“Nope!” Han drifted into the turn, causing some opposing traffic to swerve and honk. He yelled out the window, “Yeah, yeah, get over it!”

“Luke…” Leia put a hand on his shoulder gently in an unspoken question.

“He wouldn’t kill me,” her brother answered, “So he killed the Emperor and the Emperor killed him. I know there’s still a lot we have to uncover about him and about his past, but...”

“He was our father,” she finished. 

“Yeah. He said to tell you… ‘good shot.’”

“Good shot,” his sister repeated thoughtfully. 

“We’re coming in hot,” Han sped down the Little Italy street, “Ready?”

Leia loaded her shotgun and Luke cocked his semi-automatic, “Ready.”

The driver came to a sudden stop in front of the delivery truck. Luke got the truck driver face-down on the ground. Leia stopped one of the thugs loading the truck while Chewie tackled the other. 

“Bon appetit,” Han ziptied Fergie to the metal railing. 

“That’s French, darling,” said Leia, giving Chewie a treat as a reward for his hard work. 

“Oh, well, then  _ sayonara, motherfuckers _ .”

“Japanese,” Fergie huffed, disgruntled.

“Do I  _ sound _ like I  _ give _ a shit?” he waved his gun in the mobster’s face. 

“Too many,” Luke rolled his eyes, dialing the police from the phone in the loading bay. It felt good, he thought, being on the right side of things. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, commenting, and leaving kudos!!! This was really fun to write and I hope you enjoyed it as much :) 
> 
> Don't be a stranger! Find me on Tumblr [@littlejeanniebean](https://littlejeanniebean.tumblr.com/)


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